The Advice Reflection
by SergeantFuzzyBoots
Summary: Penny and Amy reflect on the advice they've been given over the years. Bestie Week prompt: Advice. Rated T.


**It's Bestie Week! My contribution for the Day One prompt: Advice.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything.**

"Penny, are you listening?"

The teenaged blonde didn't lift her gaze from her fingernails, wondering if painting them with black nail polish would make her look too emo. "Yeah," she replied. "High school, hormones, birds and the bees, blah, blah, blah."

Her mother was not amused. "Penny," she said, voice growing more stern. "This is important. You're getting older and you're going to be faced with new situations and decisions. I just want to make sure you make the right ones."

Penny simply gave a nod of her head. She could totally pull off black without getting shunned to the Goth squad.

"Now, losing your virginity is -"

"Whoa!" Penny interrupted, suddenly all ears and not eager to be. "Mom, Mom, Mom, we covered this in health class; you don't need to give me _the talk_."

The older Nebraskan arched an eyebrow at her daughter, partly amused but remaining mostly serious. "I'm not trying to give you a how-to tutorial, missy. I just want you to be careful. Once your first time's gone it's gone. It's better to wait for the right person so that the moment has value."

Once again having lost interest, the fifteen year old's head bobbed up and down in placating comprehension. She had no trouble forgetting her mother's advice at the party she attended the next week.

* * *

Amy waited patiently as her mother worked a blue pen over one of the pages of her yearbook. The first and only signature the book dedicated to her senior year of high school would receive. She'd been tempted to ask the janitor she used to eat lunch with to sign it, but fear of his wife's wrath had kept her away; she didn't want the word "puta" scribbled all over it, even if it would at least fill all the blank space.

"There you go," her mother finally said, putting the pen down and passing the book over to her daughter.

The girl's eyes locked in on the older woman's tiny scrawl. _Dear Amy, self-respect and a hymen are more important than friends and fun. Love, Mom._

Amy blinked a few times as she took them in. Her mother's words to live by. Words she had lived by for all of elementary school, middle school, and now high school. All leading up to an empty yearbook.

"Thank you, mother," she said quietly.

* * *

_"Oh, honey, sex does not make you a grown up."_

_ "You don't have to be strong for me. Now let's talk about Priya, that man-stealing bitch."_

Still a virgin, Amy had found that this key aspect was one of the things that truly separated her from adulthood, as well as, in a way, from her friends. But, then, Penny had told her not to think that way, a piece of advice amongst countless other tips she'd given the neurobiologist over the years. She'd shown her how to put herself out there, given her things to aspire to in relationships – she'd even introduced her to bras that hooked up in the front of all things! Penny had taken Amy out drinking, dancing, shoe shopping; they'd played video games together, made jewellery, and engaged in boisterous games of darts and Twister. In Penny she'd been given advice that led to friendship, but that didn't destroy the inner worth Amy felt within herself. From making a scene to ensure her needs were made clear to Sheldon when he stood her up, or simply helping her pick out an outfit for a memorial, Amy had lived by Penny's words because, for the first time, they brought the neurobiologist exactly what she'd always wanted. She wasn't sure what it afforded Penny, and knew that even a three thousand dollar painting of the two of them couldn't repay what the blonde had done, but Amy was grateful.

However, that wasn't how Penny saw it. The Nebraskan wasn't as prone to deep self-reflection as her Bestie was, but she dabbled from time to time, especially when it was important. And her relationship with Amy was definitely important. It might be less pronounced – perhaps because Penny didn't talk about it like Amy did – but the blonde had felt increasingly as the years went by that the advice the neurobiologist had provided her had done a lot more than any tips Penny had ever given her. Smart life choices and decisions hadn't solely come from Penny; they were the results of Amy's presence in her life. Amy who appreciated all that Penny was to the point that it could become frightening, and by doing so allowed the Nebraskan to appreciate Amy's lifestyle in return. The neurobiologist's friendship brought value and sense to the fun Penny pursued out at clubs or simply during a girl's night out. It was Amy who had rushed to her side for comfort when Priya had come on the scene, forcing her to confront her pain and her feelings, somehow understanding the blonde's emotions far better than Penny did. The former waitress couldn't help but feel that her life would have gone miserably off track had it not been for the neurobiologist sprouting up in her life.

Both women had received a lot of good advice in their lives, some they'd listened to and some they'd ignored. They even disregarded each other's input at times, but the bits they did follow had some of the most profound impact that either girl could measure. Always for the better.

* * *

Penny and Amy stood shivering in the rain, dresses getting soaked through as they desperately searched for cell phone service, hair becoming matted as it collected the fat drops of liquid that poured down.

"'Turn left here, it's a shortcut', huh?" Amy mumbled, eyebrow arching as she hugged her arms to her chest.

"Shut up," Penny grumbled, steaming as she received a raindrop hit to the eye.

Well almost always for the better.


End file.
